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We join George East at the start of the 60's when Rock 'n' Roll was
in its infancy. Young men and women throughout the UK are dancing
the night away as they experience teenagehood. Following the US
with music, fashion and a new-found freedom. Eventually coming into
their own, we see the start of a new era of English fashion and
music with the likes of The Beatles, The Who, The Rolling Stones
and more locally, The Stormriders, the latest name for George's
errant band. "Because of the vast quantities of beer, acid (LSD),
upper and downer pills, scrumpy cider and whacky baccy ingested at
the time, my memories of the Sixties are understandably patchy in
parts. To fill in the blanks, I'm grateful for the help of
surviving contemporaries, old friends, foes and lovers, and, when
available, police and court records and the recollections of
arresting officers. My escapades were perhaps extreme, but I think
my experiences and adventures in the so-called Swinging Sixties
were broadly similar to millions of young men and women at a time
when British society changed dramatically from the grey post-war
years to what seemed to many a new and exciting world. Whether you
believe it was a change for the better or worse will I think depend
on your age, attitude and how much fun you had in those far-off
days."
Growing Pains is the second book in a series of memoirs about
growing up in the city of Portsmouth after World War Two. We join
George in 1954, when Roger Bannister breaks the four-minute mile
barrier, meat comes off rationing, and the big musical hits of the
year include I saw Mummy kissing Santa Claus by the Beverley
Sisters and Norman Wisdom's Don't Laugh at me 'cos I'm a Fool.
Times are changing, but the country's leading naval port is still
struggling to recover from the death and destruction brought about
by wartime bombing.; The story of the pains and pleasures of coming
of age in Portsmouth or any city as the Swinging Sixties loom and
teenagers are invented makes for a sometimes poignant, sometimes
hilarious and always entertaining read.; A truly honest account of
a young man's life, his struggles with adolescence and keeping up
the appearance of being tough.
It's the dying days of World War Two, and a child is born during a
dramatic air raid that badly damages the family home and destroys
the midwife's bicycle. At least, that's what George East's mother
told him in later years. But then she also claimed that the
painting-by-numbers picture of a bunch of sunflowers in the
passageway could be a preparatory sketch for the real thing by
Vincent Van Gogh. George's beloved but eccentric mother also
claimed royal blood and that her ancestor and not Captain Hardy was
the sailor Lord Nelson asked for a kiss as he lay dying on board
HMS Victory. In Just a Pompey Boy, best-selling author George East
recalls growing up in Portsmouth directly after WWII, when fitted
carpets, double glazing, central heating and TV celebrities would
be seen as far-fetched science fantasy. In a memoir that is funny,
sad, heart-warming and always immensely readable, the author
recalls a very different time to be young and alive in a
characterful if war-battered city which was the Nation's premier
naval base. A time when bomb damages were literally adventure
playgrounds, food rationing was still in force and post-traumatic
stress and even the concept of Health and Safety regulations had
yet to be invented. As George remarks at the start of this first
volume of his memoirs, the past has been said to be a foreign
country; to the young people of today, this tale of a distant but
golden childhood may seem to be about life on a very distant
planet...
In Death a la Carte, bad-boy Police Inspector Jack Mowgley has
jumped before being pushed and taken early retirement. With no
prospects in England, he has moved across the Channel to set up in
Cherbourg as a private investigator. His intentions are to live off
the colourful band of British expats in the area while funding the
restoration of his mostly-ruined manor house in the Normandy
countryside. He expects to encounter nothing more demanding than
cases of marital infidelity and financial irregularities, but soon
finds himself involved in people trafficking, drug smuggling and a
series of murders most foul. This must be read to the shocking end.
Extracts: It occurred to Mowgley that the body on the bench was
more like a shop window mannequin being prepared for display than a
mutilated corpse. The comparison came to mind because there were no
hands protruding from the cuffs of the sleeves, or head from the
collar of the snow-white shirt... Coco Lecoq looked like an
uncomfortable cross between an Old Testament prophet and the mad
professor in Back to the Future. He had a shock of red hair, a
moustache to rival Asterix the Gaul, and possibly the worst set of
teeth Mowgley had seen in Normandy, which was saying something. An
all-round arts enthusiast, Coco also staged regular open concerts
in the square beside the pub. Last year he had arranged an exchange
deal which involved the St-Sauveur Ladies Glee Club travelling to
perform in a punk venue in East Dulwich, while the club had sent as
its representatives a band called 'We Hate Fucking Foreigners'.
What readers say about Mowgley: 'I was totally absorbed as the tale
unfolded. Not so much by the plot, but by waiting for the next
assault on political correctness.' 'Our dysfunctional detective
hero is no Morse or Rebus, and thank goodness for that. Mowgley is
refreshingly sordid, and I was secretly pleased to find he had
absolutely no redeeming characteristics.' NB. All the events and
situations relating to drug and people smuggling in the book are
based on fact. The latest reports are that these activities are
increasing most rapidly in northern France. ABOUT THE AUTHOR George
East is not everyone's idea of an author. After leaving school at
16 with no qualifications, he set out on a varied career path which
included (failed) Rock god, Impressionist (house) painter, plumber,
welder, demolition engineer, pickled onion manufacturer, private
detective, male model, lorry driver, brewer's drayman, PR and
Marketing guru, magazine editor, freelance journalist, hotel
manager, snooker hall owner, seamstress, night club bouncer, DJ and
radio and television presenter and pub landlord. After writing his
first book in 1969, his successful Mill of the Flea series followed
several years later. Then George turned his hand to crime fiction
and wrote Death Duty, the first book in a series about a seedy
detective in charge of Portsmouth ferry port. He based the book on
his experiences in travelling to and from France, and of his time
behind bars when his pub was the local for a squad of CID officers.
Soon followed the second, third and now fourth book Death a la
Carte in what I suspect will be a long running series. Now, George
divides his time between France and England, writing travel and
crime books, and, as he says, winkling out the best and cheapest
bars and restaurants in all France. To find out more about George
and his work, his website can be found at www.george-east.net
High summer in the Balkans and George East arrives in Bulgaria to
investigate an apparently potty scheme to rescue a dying mountain
village. While there, the eccentric travel writer gets to know an
array of fascinating locals from the President Putin lookalike and
Meerkat soundalike to Mr Rotavator and the man who takes his milk
direct from cows. Beyond the village, George discovers much about
the little-known country that Bill Bryson described as a
'near-death experience.' The book also contains historical and
cultural notes and traditional recipes. In his time in Bulgaria,
George finds himself falling under the spell of an ancient kingdom
and its people...A Note from the publishers:George is at his best
when confronted with new surroundings and Bulgaria and the Balkans
caused this torrent of enthusiasm for a country untouched by
commerciality and modern falseness. Though the people are poor
beyond anything that the west can imagine, they welcomed him with
very open arms.
Jack Mowgley is anything but an ordinary copper. For starters, how
many police officers have
DEATH DUTY is the first Inspector Mowgley murder mystery. The main
character Jack is a cynical, world-weary, anti-authority and
otherwise decidedly maverick CID officer. But as readers will
discover, Jack Mowgley is very different from any other literary
plainclothes policeman. For instance, he sleeps on a defunct
lightship, drives a terminally ill Lada and has 'ACAB' (All Coppers
Are Bastards) tattooed on his knuckles? He gets booze and baccy
supplies by smuggling them through the continental ferry port he is
supposed to be keeping free of crime? It is a mystery to other
officers in the force how Jack Mowgley reached the rank of
Detective Inspector and came to be in charge of policing the port.
Some reckon the Ferry King has something juicy on his superiors, in
particular the irascible Chief Superintendent Sidney 'Gloria'
Mundy. The setting for DEATH DUTY is 1999, with the world on the
brink of a new millennium. Jack Mowgley, it is commonly agreed, is
on the brink of enforced early retirement. Or worse. Attitudes are
changing, and those in authority think officers like Mowgley have
no part to play in the Modern Police Force. Without doubt, Jack
Mowgely is caught in a time-warp with regard to policing policies
and procedures, and PC he most definitely ain't. A painful divorce
resulted in our flawed hero being dispossessed of his home in
Hampshire and lumbered with the crippling mortgage on a pretentious
ruin in Normandy. It does not lessen the pain that his wife
insisted on buying La Cour ('The Yard') before running off with its
suave French vendor. At least. Mowgley reflects in a positive pub
moment, owning the expensive ruin means he can call himself Mowgley
of the Yard. The only woman in Jack Mowgley's life is CID Sergeant
Catherine McCarthy. As well as his official bag-carrier, she is
Mowgley's confidante, bringer of solace, and fierce protector from
his host of detractors and those who would bring him down. She is
also the only person who can keep up with him in the pub. To others
in the force, she is a strikingly attractive but sometimes prickly
officer. To Mowgley, she is his mate Melons...and he is the only
human being on earth allowed to call her that. DEATH DUTY opens as
Melons arrives in the scrap yard which is Mowgley's current abode
to report on a tragedy. A woman passenger has disappeared from the
deck of a ferry on a night crossing to Cherbourg. As the case
develops, Mowgley and his assistant uncover increasing evidence
that this is anything but a straightforward death at sea... WHAT
THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT MOWGLEY: "I was totally absorbed as the tale
unfolded. Not so much by the plot, but by waiting for the next
assault on political correctness." "Our hero is no Bergerac and
thank goodness for that. Mowgley is refreshingly sordid and I was
secretly pleased to find he has absolutely no redeeming
characteristics. "PC he most certainly ain't - and the tale is much
the better for it."THE MAIN MAN Name: John ('Jack') Mowgley Rank:
Detective Inspector (just) D.O.B.: 31.1.50 Height: 5ft 11 inches
Weight: 16-17 stone (depending) Body shape: Lumpy Distinguishing
Features: 'ACAB' tattooed on fingers of left hand. Scar on right
temple. Frequently broken nose. Right earlobe mislaid.
As Friday 13th looms, so the East's unlucky streak comes to a
climax. With them finally on their uppers, an advance offer from a
publisher is a welcome relief until they discover they have already
spent what is due to come from George's sales, and the bills keep
mounting. French Cricket finds the author and his long-suffering
wife facing imminent disaster as they struggle to survive at the
Mill of the Flea. Something must be done to bring home the bacon,
so our hero launches himself into another succession of
hare-brained and inevitably doomed money-making schemes - French
Cricket' is the fifth book in what has become a cult series, and
follows our accident- prone hero through a long summer in Lower
Normandy as he encounters an increasingly bizarre collection of
characters, situations and events. Distractions from his
money-making survival schemes to create ready-pickled eggs and
breed boa-constrictors in the Big Pond include regular meetings of
the infamous Jolly Boys Club. Members of this select debating
society include the allegedly immortal Old Pierrot, who claims to
have been on first name terms with William the Conqueror, JayPay
(village superchef and entry for the moustache-growing
championships of Lower Normandy), and the hypochondriacal Scabby
Michel, who has had volumes of medical journals written about his
ever-growing collection of exotic illnesses. Elsewhere, there's the
invasion of an equally unusual collection of would-be British
settlers, whose ranks feature a rollerblading barrister in search
of the real world! and a retired 'hand artist' who claims to have
been a stunt fingers double for Warren Beatty. Meanwhile, back at
the Mill of the Flea, there are the constant confrontations with a
tribe of homicidal goldfish and the escape committee in the chicken
run, and failed attempts to find a dancing partner for a
ballet-loving goose and cure a duck of its fear of water.
In this hilarious collection of cautionary tales and anecdotes,
George East discusses all the delights and drawbacks of finding,
buying and restoring French property. HOME & DRY IN FRANCE
follows the early adventures of George and Donella East as they
make every mistake in the (not-then-written) book about how and how
not to buy a second home across the Channel. Tellingly subtitled A
YEAR IN PURGATORY, the book is much more than a listing of all the
awful pitfalls awaiting the innocent abroad: it is the hilarious
and always entertaining account of how a couple set out with a
dream - and came close to turning it in to a nightmare.
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